Devastated (The New Orleans Temptation Series Book 1) Page 3

  ***

  It is another Friday night after a high school football game. It’s a little different now though. Grant is much more attentive. He is actually awake on the sofa socializing with the kids and I until it is time for them to go to bed.

  I have had my typical large glass of wine. I have used my wine in the past to help unwind from the week at work. Now, I am using it to cope, using it to get through each day, to dull the pain. Even though I have a better understanding, it didn’t make it hurt any less. I am trying to break myself away from this pity party. I keep asking myself who in the heck do I think I am boohooing over this. He never slept with anyone.

  I convinced myself it’s simply an extension of porn. That’s the only way I can deal with it. It doesn’t matter if it's the right way. It’s the way it has to be in order to live the rest of my life married to this man.

  I can no longer harbor hate. I have to try and get over it. I have to try to trust him again, and love him again. And by that, I mean make love to him again. He has not dared ask for it. But I know him, I know he is waiting on me to be ready. I have always let him be in charge. But I now know one of his complaints was I never initiated sex.

  Both kids are busy entertaining friends upstairs. I allowed each to have one friend sleep over tonight. So with no one looking over my shoulder, here goes, part two of “Operation Save My Marriage.” While Grant is in the shower, I check out a few lingerie websites on my kindle. Amazed at how cheap this stuff is, I order about 150 dollars’ worth of sexy wear. Now, what should I do while I wait for my shipment?

  It suddenly comes to me, a scene from one of my smut books. Bath time! How simple, still kind of vanilla, but I can't remember a time when we have taken a bath together. Maybe once before Blake was born?

  ***

  First thing Saturday morning, I get dressed and feed the kids and their friends. I start some light cleaning until the other parents pick up their kids. Isabella worms her way into going home with her friend so she can sleep there for the night. Blake hears she is sleeping out and asks if he can go home with his friend. With that turn of events, we are now home alone for the night.

  I grab my purse and head out the door for the bath store and the usual Saturday grocery shopping. I have never been a bath person, always preferring showers. However, after some heavy smut reading, I think we have been missing out.

  As soon as I open the door to the bath store, a very perky twenty-something-year-old girl with an apron on asks me if she can give me a tote for all my purchases. She hands me the bag and follows me around the store asking if she can help me. I accept her help; I don’t know where anything is in this store. She points me in the direction of the bubble bath, matching massage oils, and lotion.

  These are perfect items for my plan on a perfect night without the kids. If the kids were home, I would have to wait until they fell asleep or risk explaining why mom and dad are both in the bathroom at the same time for so long. As my thoughts drift while standing in line, another salesperson talks me into buying candles. She says, “You can’t have a nice bubble bath without candles.” The store is packed; there is a sale on everything. Waiting in line, I remember Grant once or twice mentioning how he would love to buy massage oil. Another one of his suggestions I totally ignored. He is going to be floored!

  When I get home, Grant is still outside doing yard work and cleaning up from cutting the grass. After the groceries are put away, I start to clean the tub. It's very dusty from lack of use. When that's complete, I sit down to rest. Pulling out my Kindle, I put my feet up on the ottoman and read a few chapters of my latest book until Grant yells from the back door for a glass of water. I turn my Kindle off; I have wasted enough time resting.

  As I go to the back door with his water, I am caught off guard when I notice how sexy he looks out there. How did I miss that for the last few years? He is standing over the pool skimming the grass out of it. No shirt, just a pair of athletic shorts hung low on his hips. Sweat glistens over his entire body. The muscles in his arms flex with every swipe of the pool skimmer. Have I been dead for years? Moving through life making sure my kids are fed, clean, smart, respectful, and well rounded, I have neglected myself and our marriage. As I watch him through the glass, I feel throbbing between my legs.

  I bring him his water and tell him I am not cooking tonight; we are going to go out for dinner. As I walk away, he asks, “Where are we going to eat?”

  I yell over the pool, “Dinner is your choice. I have a surprise for dessert!” He lowers his head so I can see his wide eyes over his sunglasses. For the first time in a long time, I see his sexy smile. I giggle and look at him before I shut the door. “Hurry your ass up because I am starving.” With a wink, I am gone to shower and get ready for dinner.

  ***

  We have dinner at a local seafood restaurant since we were both craving fresh red fish. He gets his fish fried and topped with a heavy crawfish cream sauce. It looks delicious, but that does not fit into my diet. I order grilled red fish topped with lemon wine sauce with lump crabmeat. We have a nice conversation as we talk about the events of the week, the kids, and what's going on with each other’s job.

  Grant has become a superintendent for the construction company he has worked for since we met. The new position has really stressed him out, and I never bother to ask him how things are going at work. Our time is usually monopolized with talk of the kids. Now that I think about it, the kids are usually breathing down our necks constantly. I love them, but at the moment, I don't miss them at all.

  After dinner is done, we head home.

  Pulling into the driveway, he asks if I would let him in on what's for dessert? The suspense is killing him. “Lets go relax on the sofa with a glass of wine, and I will let you in on the secret when we're done.”

  We sit on the sofa with my feet in his lap and chat about the past and the fun we used to have in our younger years. I finish my wine first and start to drink out of his glass. I am anxious to get to the dessert as well.

  Chapter 6

  I get up from the sofa once I’ve drained the rest of Grant’s wine from his glass. “Give me five minutes, then meet me in the bathroom.”

  I rush off to get everything set up. I have OCD, so I already have all my new purchases in the bathroom closet. I start to pull it out as I fill the tub. When I add the blackberry vanilla bubble bath to the water, the scent fills the entire room.

  That saleslady pointed me in the right direction when I told her I needed a scent that was not too girly. This smell is very sensual. I should have guessed that since the name on the bottle reads, “Sensual Aromatherapy.” She also paired the bubble bath with a pecan waffle candle that is to die for. I had already put the lighter in my bag, and the candles are now taken care of. I’m all done with the setup.

  With one minute left, I toss my clothes into the laundry basket. Before I slip into the hot water, I hit my music app to play love songs from the nineties. Perfect. The room is absolutely perfect. This is straight from a page in one of my books. All I need is my man to walk in the door. Right on cue, the door swings open. Grant stands there in awe of me covered only in bubbles waiting for him in the candle-lit room.

  He strides across the room shucking off his clothes as he heads to the tub. He slowly steps in as I lean forward to allow him room to slip in behind me. We say nothing, feeling the want and desire in the air. He wraps his now slick arms around me. “I love you so much; do you know that?” I shake my head yes while he grabs my conveniently placed bath sponge and pours the matching liquid soap into it. “This shit smells good. When did you get all this stuff?”

  “Don’t you worry about my secrets; you just enjoy the outcome.”

  “You know, we have not taken a bath together in quite some time.” This is the information I recalled while standing in line at the bath store. It makes me sad that he remembers that as well. Shelby, try to shake off the sad. This is a new effort; turn a new leaf. I feel something turning all rig
ht; I feel Grant’s dick start to rise and press into my back. A smile crosses my face. My plan is working.

  He washes my shoulders as he brings the soap-filled sponge across my breasts, paying close attention to my nipples that are now erect and begging for attention. He moves the silky, yet rough, sponge in circles with very little pressure over one nipple. The light touch is driving me crazy for more. It feels good, but the need for more is building between my legs. He switches over to the other nipple! That’s my man—giving equal attention to each nipple. I'm not sure how much longer I can hold out without coming.

  I sit up, turn to him, and wrap my legs around his waist. I reach over for the massage oil. I start to twist the top as he watches with excitement. “Is that what I think it is? Is that massage oil?” My smile answers his question as I pour a long dramatic stream into my left hand.

  Grant holds his hand out to me, and I fill his palm as well. Within seconds, we are rubbing each other down and panting. We start at each other’s shoulders, move slowly down each other's arms, and massage hands and fingers. I would have never guessed this would make my blood boil the way it is right now. His large fingers are massaging each of my fingers individually, and it's so suggestive. With his fingers in an O-shape, he pulls each of my fingers through his.

  That is the feeling I want; I want him in me. But I have to be patient and let this whole seduction scene play out. Grant brings me out of my thoughts by dropping my hands in the warm water and moving his to my thighs.

  I follow suit with my hands disappearing under the bubbles to find Grant’s erection. I have not felt Grant this large in years. I wrap my hands around his shaft. With already oiled hands, I start to firmly guide my fingers up and down his cock. To my surprise, it feels good to me—good to please him, and good to know that I know what I am doing. I have learned more valuable information in the last two weeks of reading smut than I had in four years of college.

  Using my newfound information, I lower my other hand to cup his balls. His face goes rigid and I can see he has started to panic. I guess the unknown is scary for everyone. It only takes a few careful firm tugs of his balls for him to realize it feels good. “Shelby, if you do that much longer, I am going to come right here!”

  Leaning over to his ear, in the sexiest voice I have, I whisper, “That’s the plan, sweetheart!”

  With that, he lets go, letting me make him feel good, letting my hands take him to heaven and back. I continue to move my hand up and down his cock, slowly adding pressure as I reach the base and letting up on the pressure when I come up to the head. With some gentle tugs of his balls, Grant’s head drops back. He calls my name with such lust, I almost come with him. I pump him until he begs me to stop.

  Grant grasps my shoulders pulling me to him and kissing me deeply. His tongue invades my mouth with such determination. His strong forceful tongue circles mine as he sucks my tongue into his mouth like he is sucking a Popsicle. My pussy is now up against his cock, which to my amazement is hard again. I can’t even recall the last time this happened this quickly. I am in delightful shock.

  He puts his large hands under my ass, lifting me onto his hard cock. As he lets me down onto himself, he lowers a hand onto my nipple and he starts to twist it. He twists a steady, firm, constant twist as I dig my heels into the tub starting to ride him. In this squatted position, I have great leverage to move up and down his length. Once I hit the base, I rub my clit onto him in circles. My orgasm is close. I continue the same movements with increased pressure while Grant does the same to my nipple. “I am going to come, please don’t stop, please don’t let up, I need you, I need you to want me!” I explode into a million pieces. At the same time, Grant finds his release again, and I feel him pumping inside of me.

  We are both limp trying to catch our breath. I think we have died and gone to heaven. It's been so long since each of us has put so much effort into making the other come. This is a trend we should continue. Grant picks me up out of the tub, sets me on my feet, and dries me off with such care and tenderness.

  Chapter 7

  We go to bed together without another word, just lying in each other’s arms, so close, so loving. It is almost as if our issues have been washed away in the bathtub.

  Boy, was I ever wrong! In the early morning hours, I wake in horror. I think I may be having a panic attack. I have never had one in my life. I would have told you they don’t exist, and people make that shit up. But, oh my Lord, I feel as if I can’t breathe. I am gasping for air; my heart is about to beat out of my chest, and I am sweating like a pig.

  Grant wakes and sees the panic on my face, “What’s the matter, are you okay?”

  “I don’t know? I don’t know what’s happening? I can barely breathe. My heart is beating so fast. I just need to calm down and take some long slow breaths.” After about twenty minutes of that, my breathing starts to return to normal, but my heart is still racing. It has slowed a bit, but is still much faster than it should be.

  “Do you want to go to the hospital? I’m worried; this is not normal.”

  “No, I don’t I need to go to the hospital. I think I am having a panic attack; there is nothing the hospital can do for me.”

  “What's going on? We just had the best night in a very long time. Why would that make you have a panic attack? Come on, get dressed. I need to take you to the hospital,” he says as he is trying to pull me out of the bed.

  Staring back at him, it hits me. I feel as if I have rewarded him for bad behavior. He did me wrong, and I am giving him a reward for it. What in the hell is wrong with me? How can I do this? It would be similar to me giving Blake or Isabella candy for feeding their dinner to the dog because they were tired of that particular meal.

  I get out of the bed to head to the shower, angry with myself. “I’m fine. I will be fine. My heart will not allow me to reward you for bad behavior. I can’t do this, not now, and I don’t know how long before I can do it again.” Before I turn back, I see his shoulders slumping, and shame crosses his face. I step out of the room into the bathroom, realizing the healing process is going to take longer than I had expected. I need more time before I can be intimate with him again. Even though it was awesome at the moment, my overanalyzing mind is having an internal fight with my heart. I step into the shower and let the warm water run over me, trying to soothe the panic.

  When I step out of the bathroom, Grant is sitting at the edge of the bed, waiting for me; he’s completely dressed. He motions to me with a pat on the mattress to go sit next to him. How do I go from fucking his brains out to wanting to beat them in? What the heck is wrong with me? I take a deep breath as I’m still trying to regulate my breathing while sitting next to him on the bed. He pulls me up and across his lap, hugging me. He hugs me so tight and close. “I am so sorry. I will tell you this every day because it’s the truth. I will tell you how much I love you and need you everyday. But, please, don’t leave me. I can’t be without you. I will wait for you to be ready; this is all my fault.”

  I am shocked to hear him say that. Yes, he said it the day of the “cyber incident,” but I must be living in my own head. I take control of everything, and I failed to see his need for me. He frames my face with his large hands and brings my eyes to his.

  “I promise I’ll give you all the time you need to get over what I’ve done to you. I hate myself for what I have done to you, to us. I wish I could take it back, but I can’t. The only thing I can do is try to make it up to you. However long it takes for you to feel comfortable with being with me in this bed with you, in you, is how long I will wait for you. I have no interest in going back on any sites or having any chats with anyone other than you. Do you understand that, Shelby?”

  It takes me a moment to respond to him, and he has really begun to heal my heart with his words. “Yes, but I don’t know how long that will be.”

  “It doesn't matter how long. If it takes six months, I will be here. If it takes a year, I will be here. I did this to you
. We haven’t been apart since the day we met, and I will work for it. I will work for you to trust me again.”

  Wow, what a rollercoaster! I have no idea how long it will take me to get it together, but Grant’s words on that bed in his arms really hit me. We are not the mushy couple that talks about feelings like that. But I felt his words as the truth. I know in my heart he is going to wait for me.

  A couple of weeks pass with the same old same old—work, yoga, homework, cooking, and getting the kids to and from basketball and football practice. We have started to communicate even more. It’s always nice to know that someone cares if you had a crappy day or a good day at work.

  I have now dropped ten pounds and feel better in my own skin. Yoga has really helped tone my arms and belly. It gives me motivation to keep it going.

  Grant and I have started a new bedtime routine without realizing it. When we get into bed, after the lights go out, we say our I Love Yous. I have been turning over away from him, but he did not let that stop him from showing me he loves me and will wait for me. Every night since my panic attack, when I turn away, he pulls me close to him, putting one arm under my neck and the other wrapped around my chest, with a hand on my heart. He whispers in my ear, “I will love you always and forever; please forgive me.”

  I thought it would get old, and he would eventually stop saying it. But he hasn’t and I’m glad he didn’t. It’s helping me ward off the panic attacks; it has also helped me start to want him again and want to be with him again.

  A few more weeks go by and just as he has told me every night for weeks, he says it again. But this time, I move my hand on top of his and say, “You are forgiven. I love you, Grant; I want to be close to you again. Our kids are getting older, and they don’t occupy our time like they used to. They have their own friends, and I want to enjoy each other and our time together.”